Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Son. Then the Liars and Swearers are Fools: for there
Son. are Lyars and Swearers enow, to beate the honest men,
Son. and hang vp them.
Wife. Wife.
Wife. Now God helpe thee, poore Monkie:
Wife. But how wilt thou do for a Father?
Son. Son.
Son. If he were dead, youl'd weepe for him: if you
Son. would not, it were a good signe, that I should quickely
Son. haue a new Father.
Wife. Poore pratler, how thou talk'st?
Wife. Enter a Messenger.
Mes. Mes.
Mes. Blesse you faire Dame: I am not to you known,
Mes. Though in your state of Honor I am perfect;
Mes. I doubt some danger do's approach you neerely.
Mes. If you will take a homely mans aduice,
Mes. Be not found heere: Hence with your little ones
Mes. To fright you thus. Me thinkes I am too sauage: